


Embarrassment

by theweakestthing



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi is on a mission to embarrass Misaki as much as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Yata was convinced that Fushimi Saruhiko existed solely to ruin his life. 

His ex-best friend had followed him into a public restroom, without being detected. Fushimi announced his presence by cutting the front of Yata's sweatshirt, leaving his abdomen exposed. The redhead gasped, jumping back in time for the next blow to only knock his bat from his hand. His eyes darkened as they met Fushimi's smirking gaze.

"The fuck you doing monkey?!" Yata spat as the red aura began to surround him.

"Aren't you embarrassed, Misaki?" Fushimi hummed nodding at Yata's visible flesh, he followed the line of Fushimi's sight. He hadn't noticed that the slash had also caught the top of his shorts, exposing the v line of his pelvic bone and the waistband of his boxers. His aura vanished.

Yata's mouth twisted up in a sneer, he tried to ignore the faint heat in his cheeks. 

"Fucking pervert, tsk," he began to untie the hoodie from around his waist. Fushimi took the moment of distraction to rush Yata, pressing him against the wall bodily. Fushimi tipped Yata's chin with the sharp edge of his rapier. "At least let me put on some clothes so we can have an even fight," the smaller growls in reply, his blush deepening.

"You, of all people, should know that I don't fight fair," the corners of his mouth turned up sickly, reminding Yata that this was not the person that he used to know.

"Y-you really do have no honour, don't you!" Yata's voice came out higher than he had meant it to. Being reminded of what his best friend had turned into always hit him like a bucket of cold water to the face. He shoved Fushimi backward, putting all of his weight into his palms. The blade caught the underside of his jaw, leaving a long scratch. He again tried to cover himself up, but halted at the shrill penetrating noise of Fushimi's laughter. 

"Why so coy Mi-sa-ki?" Fushimi sing-songed, "It's not like I haven't seen you like this before," he smiles a self-satisfied smile as Yata's blush spreads to his ears. 

"S-shut up monkey!" he barked and lunged for his discarded bat, but Fushimi was quicker and caught his wrist. Fushimi twisted his arm behind his back and pulled it straight making him cry out, effectively making Yata his puppet. 

Fushimi brought them to the row of sinks in front of the wall wide mirror. He yanked Yata's arm toward him and down, snaked his fingers around the redhead's chin. Yata pulled at the hand on his chin with his free hand, this only caused Fushimi to tighten his grip on Yata's chin, nails digging into skin. 

"Hmm...such a wonderful sight," Fushimi hummed, eyeing their reflection. Yata's eyes snapped to the mirror and he gasped.

The sight was scandalous: his hat must have come off during the scuffle, his hair was sticking up all over the place, his amber eyes wide and horrified, his crimson blush had spread to his throat, his exposed pale torso and hips, the torn front of his short made them ride low exposing the waistband of his boxers. The worst part, Yata had decided, was the excitement in Fushimi's eyes. 

Fingers slipped into his mouth and Yata tried to bite them, but was halted by a harsh twist of his trapped arm. He whimpered weakly, opening his mouth wider to the invading digits. Fushimi brought his lips to Yata's ear, breathing lewdly on the shell. 

"Don't act like you don't enjoy this," he whispered smirking wickedly against Yata's ear. The smaller squirmed in his hold, trying to escape.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy being exposed," his fingers toyed with Yata's tongue as the other began to pant. Their eyes met in the mirror and Yata began to pray that the floor would open up and swallow Fushimi whole. 

"Don't act like you don't enjoy being humiliated," Fushimi's fingers slid from his mouth, trailing saliva down his chin and along his throat. Yata's free arm went limp as the offending fingers glided over his torso, making him shiver. Yata forgot to close his mouth and forgot to swallow as Fushimi caressed him through his boxers, he whined. 

Yata thought about how this was a public place, a restroom nonetheless, and anyone could walk in. He was horrified by the excited twitch between his legs at that thought, he began to struggle again. Yata tried to twist around so he could free his arm, Fushimi harshly kicked him behind the knee bringing Yata to the floor. He had cracked his nose on the countertop making him a little dizzy, he was vaguely aware that his nose was bleeding and brought his hand to his face. As Yata tried to focus his eyes on his hand something else came into view and his hair was tugged back sharply. His mouth gaped at the pain, Fushimi invaded the orifice with his erection. 

When the tip hit the back of his throat, Yata came to his senses and scratched at the hand in his hair to no avail, Fushimi had a high tolerance for pain especially where Yata was concerned. He tried to get to his feet, but another hand twisted in his hair and pushed him back down. He was sure that Fushimi was trying to choke him in the most humiliating way, his head spun.

What if someone walks in? What if the other members of HOMRA notice his absence and come looking for him? If they found him like this what would they think? What if someone came looking for Fushimi? What if the coldhearted woman found them? 

He pawed at Fushimi's hips, trying to push him away. Yata was losing air and tried to breathe through his nose, but the thrusts took the wind out of him and the fight was starting to leave him. His vision blurred and he dropped his hands to the cold hard floor, Fushimi pulled Yata's head forward with a crushing force as he snapped his hips into that mouth. Tears brim in Yata's eyes and his throat burns.

Suddenly Fushimi stepped back from Yata, completely letting go of him. He slumped over coughing, hands bracing the floor. Laughter bounced off the walls and split Yata's skull, he scowled up at Fushimi. 

"Still an innocent virgin, eh Misaki?" Fushimi said condescendingly as he pressed the toe of his boot against the wet lump in Yata's underwear, the redhead whimpered pathetically. Yata hadn't realised that he'd cum during the assault of his mouth, he turned beetroot red, mouth twisting in horror. 

He scrambled to his feet, stuttering incoherently, and tried to cover himself. Fushimi silently moved behind him and pulled Yata's pants down, revealing his backside to the cool air of the restroom. His wrists were gripped painfully, Fushimi yanked his arms taught harshly, making Yata bend with his face inches from the countertop. His shoulder blades grinded together as he tried to push upward, Yata was dizzy from the momentum of everything. The situation changed too fast for him to keep up: first he was standing ready to fight, then he was against the wall, then he was in front the mirrors, then he was on the floor and back to the mirrors again. 

He felt sick as he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he could only see his face but that was more than enough to twist his innards. His fringe was matted to his forehead with sweat, his eyes were wet, blood from his nose was smeared around his snout and saliva spilt from his bruised lips. Fushimi rammed inside him then and Yata cried in pain, unable to do much else. 

"S-saru!" Yata struggled to think of something, anything, to say that would stop this. The difference in height meant that Yata had to balance on just the tips of his toes, Fushimi's cock bringing his hips high. 

Fushimi thrust into Yata mercilessly, the pain did not let up and Yata could only whine and stutter in retaliation. He was sure that he was bleeding inside, it seemed to ease Fushimi's rutting. Yata could hear someone panting and moaning, he was sure that it wasn't Fushimi, it was too high and whiney. Then realisation dawned on him, it was him panting and moaning. He felt stiffness between his legs and whined keenly, far too affected to get any more embarrassed. 

Fushimi released Yata's arms, grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulled him up and grasped the neglected member. Yata moaned as Fushimi's wrist began to snap back and forth.

"See?" Fushimi whispered devilishly into Yata's ear. "You're enjoying this, anyone could walk in and find us like this," Yata just panted in response and gripped the countertop. "You completely bowing to my will, open wide for me," Yata's brows nit together as he fought the rising pressure in his lower abdomen. "You're enjoying this, ne Misaki?" Yata gasped as he came all over the sink.

Fushimi bent him further over the countertop and snap his hips against Yata's backside at a furious pace, grunting as he did so. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled walls, Yata curled his toes in his shoes. Fushimi came with a long drawn out groan and pulled out, wiped himself clean on some tissue and left Yata in a heaving mess on the floor.

~~~  
When Yata came to his senses, he jumped up and groaned at the pain in his lower back. He cleaned himself up as quick as he could, grabbed his discarded bat, hat and skateboard. He put on his red hoodie and zipped it up fully, covering himself up. Yata rode home as fast as his board could take him, he took the longest, hottest shower he had ever had and crashed into bed, releasing irritated groan into his pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

Yata strolled into his apartment and instantly knew that something was wrong. The door slammed behind him, his hackles rose as he slowly turned around. He already knew the fate that awaited him, he just hoped that the other was just there to fight. Yata had spent the past few weeks pretending that nothing happened, but there it was standing by the door of his apartment. 

"Good evening, Mi-sa-ki," that wicked smirk cracked across Fushimi's face as he leaned lazily against the wall. He kicked off the wall and sauntered toward the other, Yata froze in horror. The redhead could not call the usual fury that spread through him when he looked in those eyes, all he saw now was the scandalous affair causing heat to rise to his face and his mouth to stutter open and closed. 

"Cat got your tongue, hm?" Fushimi hummed taking Yata's chin with his finger tips, tipping the boy's head up. Yata went stiff and fisted his hands at his sides, painfully frustrated with himself. He furrowed his brow and grit his teeth, he tried to growl but it just came out as a whimper. Fushimi laughed at him.

"Fighting yourself, eh?" Fushimi's breath caressed Yata's lips, the redhead scrunched his eyes closed. A vile snicker coaxed Yata to crack an eye open, he sneered at that traitorous face. 

"G-get off me, stupid monkey!" Yata choked out staggering backwards, landing on his backside upon the floor. The laughter only grew.

"This is very unlike you, Misaki," Fushimi stepped slowly, confidently toward the terrified boy, "wouldn't you usually be at my throat by now?" Yata could only look up at him, unable to move. "One good fucking and you're almost halfway to being a sub," at that Yata kicked out his legs.

However, to Yata's horror Fushimi fell atop him, hands braced either side of his head and knees either side of his. Fushimi's face was inches from his own, blue eyes gleamed at him daringly, Yata gulped. 

"I'm gonna have to punish you for that, Mi-sa-ki," Fushimi's honeyed tone moved thickly through Yata's veins, his eyes hooded and he bit his lip. "Are you trying to tease me?" Fushimi quirked a brow. Lips bore down on Yata, a hand carded through his hair. He gave into those soft vicious lips, pressing against him, making him sigh. This wasn't like the last time, it was nowhere near as violent, it wasn't violent at all. Yata guessed that it was because he wasn't really fighting back, he slowly brought his hands to the fabric over Fushimi's shoulders. 

Yata suddenly remembered to be embarrassed since he hadn't kiss anyone ever, this was his first kiss he realised slowly. They hadn't kissed the last time, last time was fast, harsh and violent. This was slow, warm and relaxing, it was nice. He didn't really know what was expected of him so he let Fushimi lead and groaned at his submissiveness.

He wondered why he wasn't fighting, he wondered why this seemed ok. Well, Fushimi was familiar and had been the most important person to him for quite some time, so wasn't it natural? Or maybe it was just his longing for Fushimi to come back that anything, even the tiniest spark of warmth was more than enough. Yata didn't know and it irritated him to no end. He wasn't even angry at Fushimi anymore, well he was but not about their last meeting, he was just angry at himself. 

Fushimi pulled away and brought Yata's chin with him as he sat up, causing Yata to sit up too. The redhead panted, surprised by the sound of it. Fushimi's eyes went soft when Yata knelt up in order to bring their lips back together, fingers twisting in the front of the blue's shirt.

"Why?" It was a soft whisper pressed against Fushimi's lips, that drifted like smoke into his lungs.

~~~

Fushimi was doing his usual rounds, which meant he was slacking off in the park smoking, when he heard the ruckus that precedes HOMRA everywhere they go. He clicked his tongue and made to leave before they came within sight, then he heard that voice. 

The voice that called to him like the cherubs and their harps, like the moon calls the sea, like the lighthouse calls the ships. He froze, pissed at how the other still had such sway over him, commanded him without any knowledge of it. Innocence is beautiful, ignorance is infuriating and Yata Misaki was both, a bittersweet taste that Fushimi just couldn't get enough of. 

He watched Yata from the distance, jealousy coiled inside him, like a vicious serpent, the more he watched. When Yata left the group, Fushimi followed, skulking in the shadows. When he saw the other standing there in the far too bright florescent lights, he could not have stopped himself and he didn't want to. The warm sheen of Yata's skin made Fushimi want to see more, Yata's skin called to him like a siren and he was helpless under that gaze.

Fushimi had wanted Yata's everything, to be Yata's everything, but he knew that the other would never understand. The redhead was far too innocent, far too pure for Fushimi, he wanted to consume that, all of it, all of Yata and wanted to be consumed by him. It had always been just the two of them and that was more than fine with Fushimi, living in their small world for two. Then came HOMRA and their world shattered. 

He took out all his frustrations and anger out on the smaller, abused that body he worshiped, and left Yata there with the mess he had made. 

In those fiery eyes he saw an opening, he saw a place where he could worm his way in and make his home. Something he could use, something other than anger, something more than anger that he could wield to coax Yata back with.

~~~

"Why not, idiot," Fushimi said curtly and crashed against those inviting lips. He drew Yata onto his lap and snaked his limbs around the other. Yata giggled suddenly, startling Fushimi, he blinked at older boy in his lap quirking a brow.

"You taste like smoke," his breath fanned Fushimi's cheeks, "it's gross," Fushimi rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. The conversation was normal and warm and it made his head spin, he was practically giddy.

"I'll brush my teeth if you do as I say this time, ne?" Fushimi's tone was light and it grated against Yata that he'd refer to the scandalous act in such a way, but then he realised that this was Fushimi, the boy that always got a rise out of him. He looked away, blushing as he worried the nail of index finger, mulling over the proposition. "Didn't you enjoy it, Misaki?" Fushimi said lowly, causing Yata to go completely red.

"I-it's not that, I just, it was...er...sudden and painful," Yata stuttered out and snapped his head toward Fushimi. "A-anyway, it really hurt you fucker and I had to clean up and go home like that and ugh," he shook Fushimi by the shoulders. "You're the worst!" the shout was muffled as Yata had buried his head in Fushimi's broad chest. 

"Still haven't answered the question, Misaki," Fushimi said condescendingly, gleeful smile plastered on his face. Yata froze mid shaking, mouth twisting in a strange mix of irritation and horrified humiliation. 

"W-well, it's not like I said that I didn't," Yata nervously wrung Fushimi's shirt, "don't go putting words in my mouth, stupid monkey," he chanced a sheepish look up at Fushimi from under his lashes. The younger kissed the top of his head and nestled against his hair.

"Then what about invitati-" Fushimi was cut off by the boy in his lap, yapping loudly like a small dog.

"You'd have to get the fuck up and brush your teeth wouldn't ya?" Yata forced the words out before he lost the nerve. "I'm not about to let someone who tastes like a fucking ashtray stick their tongue down my throat," he was babbling, Fushimi found it cute. "It's a gross habit, I can't stand it, I'm always telling Kusanagi-san and Miko-" Yata was cut off by Fushimi's smoker tongue being thrust into his mouth. 

"If you want this to not be like the other time," Fushimi harshly gripped Yata's hair and pulled his head back, bringing them eye to eye, "then you won't dare mention anyone to me whilst we're here," he said dangerously. "When we're together it's just us and no one else, nothing exists outside of us, ok?" the look in Fushimi's eyes wasn't one of anger, but one of fear.

Yata took the hand in his hair in his own and entwined their fingers. He kissed the knuckles and stared deep into those icy blues. 

"Ok," he said quietly, "brush your fucking teeth, asshole."


	3. Chapter 3

Yata sat nervously on the edge of his bed, biting his nails. From where he sat he could clearly see the bathroom and Fushimi brushing his teeth thoroughly. He wondered just what the hell he was doing, it looked like he was about to engage in a second sexual act with Fushimi. Fushimi: his best friend, ex-best friend, the person he's closest too, the person he can't seem to reach, the person he wants, the person he hates, the person he loves, the person that has the exact same tattoo in the exact same place as him, his partner, his rival, his nemesis, his soul mate, traitor. 

Fucking psycho traitor, he betrayed everyone, he betrayed you. He took your trust, your pride and he burnt it, he destroyed it right in front of your eyes. You cannot trust him.

The mattress shifted as Fushimi settled down next to him, long boney fingers gently took his chin and brought icy eyes into view. They looked at each other for some time, fiery amber eyes shone at glinting glacial blues. Every single ounce of hesitance and doubt melts from him when cool minty lips cover his own, he smiles into the caress. 

"You gonna be a good boy now?" Fushimi said over Yata's lips, the movement made them tingle. Yata gluped, unsure of quite what he was getting himself into. Fushimi tipped his chin and brought sinful lips to the column of his neck. Yata melted in Fushimi's grasp, coming apart like wet origami under the skilled ministrations. 

"I'm not..." Yata sighed wantonly as teeth scraped over his skin, "a fucking dog," all the edge in his tone softened as he lent into the touch. Yata yelped as teeth sunk into his flesh, "What the hell was that for?" He pulled away holding his neck and scowled at the wicked smirk on Fushimi's face. 

"Like I said last time," Fushimi's voice was slow and thick with desire, "don't pretend that you don't like what I do to you," Yata blushed fiercely in reply. "So," He took Yata's hand from the bite wound and entwined their fingers, "are you going to be a good boy?" Yata's eyes searched Fushimi's for something to hold onto, the smaller swallowed thickly and nodded. 

Fushimi gripped the front of Yata's sweatshirt and yanked him into a suffocating kiss, it made his head swim. It was scandalous, Fushimi's tongue swept through him, his fingers found dark hair, saliva spilt from the corner of his mouth. Fushimi growled possessively into his mouth, the whole affair made Yata's entire body flush. Fushimi pulled away audibly, Yata panted for air. 

"Lift your arms," Fushimi said darkly, tone like velvet. Yata complied, his sweatshirt was peeled from him in one swift motion. Fushimi twisted it in his hands, "turned around," Yata couldn't resist the look in those eyes and turned to face the wall. Fushimi took Yata's wrists and brought them behind his back, tying them together with the sweatshirt. It wasn't up to Fushimi's standards, but it would do for now. "Kneel in front of me," Yata staggered off of the bed, his knee clicked audibly as he knelt awkwardly. He looked up pensively, Fushimi bent towards Yata, unzipped his flies and pulled out his semi-erect penis.

"S-saru!" Yata gasped, embarrassment rising within him. Fushimi sat back and released his own penis from his trousers. 

"Do I really need to tell you what I want you to do, hm Misaki?" Fushimi raised a bow seductively whilst sensually rubbing himself right at Yata's eye level. He spread his legs, allowing Yata to shuffle forward. 

With Fushimi's member less than an inch from his face, Yata began to panic slightly. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do after putting it in his mouth, he didn't want Fushimi to call him an idiot. 

Yata softly pressed his lips to the head and tentatively licked at the slit, Fushimi released a groan that urged Yata forward as he sucked the head into his mouth. Fushimi shuddered and twisted fingers in Yata's hair, pressing the redhead further down him. Yata squirmed, mildly surprised by the intrusion. 

He began to bob his head, being the only technique he knew. Fushimi panted above him and Yata chanced a look up, a light blush dusted Fushimi's cheek, his mouth was slightly agape, his eyes were hooded and cloudy. Yata wondered what he must look like to the other, mouth full of cock, he whined. Fushimi pulled Yata's head back by his hair, saliva trailed between Yata's mouth and Fushimi's cock. 

"Stand," Fushimi said huskily, Yata obliged and Fushimi pushed Yata's shorts and underwear down. The fabric pooled around his feet. "See," Fushimi swiped his fingers over the wet head of Yata's erection, "you get a kick out of being submissive," he brought the fingers to his mouth. "Being humiliated turns you on," Fushimi's piercing gaze made Yata self-conscious as he licked the digits. Fushimi eyed the tall mirror in the corner of the room, Yata followed his gaze and shuddered. 

"U-um," Yata stuttered, "Saru?" He looked back at the dark haired boy. 

"Do you stare at your reflection often, Misaki?" Fushimi smiled wickedly. 

"N-no!" Yata said indignantly, he felt heat reach up to his ears. 

"Then why would you have such an ornate mirror and in your bedroom no less," Fushimi took Yata's chin and stared deep into amber irises, Yata's lip twitched. "You've got a perfectly fine one in the bathroom, so why do you need a full length one in your bedroom?" His eyes alight with excitement. "Maybe you're the pervert here, ne Misaki?" Yata shifted his weight nervously. "Stand in front of it," Fushimi ordered, Yata had thought about defying him but found himself in front of the offending mirror before any obscenities could leave his mouth. His body was betraying him or his mind was, he wasn't really sure. 

Fushimi sat behind him on the edge of the bed and grasped Yata's backside causing the smaller boy to gasp. Fushimi pulled a small bottle of lotion from his jacket pocket and coated his fingers in the substance. He nudged Yata's legs apart slightly with his knee, gripped Yata's cheek with his left hand and rubbed the redhead's entrance with slender fingers. 

"U-um, Saru, I err," Yata worried his lip with his teeth.

"Sshh," he said reassuringly, "look at your reflection," Fushimi pressed his lips to the small of Yata's back, the redhead tentatively brought his eyes to his twin in the mirror. 

A slender digit slowly pressed inside the small ring of muscles, making Yata feel indecent and the cold wet substance made him feel even more so. Fushimi thrust in and out of him in a drawn out languid motion, Yata wished he had something to hold on to and whined. 

"Do you masturbate in front of this mirror?" Fushimi said lowly as he pushed another finger inside Yata, the smaller whimpered. Yata felt full, the stretching was uncomfortable but not nearly as unbearable as their last time. 

"E-erm, what-ah, what are you, unng, doing?" Yata stammered between whines, the pressure wasn't unpleasant.

"Preparing you," Fushimi stated simply, spreading his fingers inside Yata, "otherwise it'll hurt like last time." Yata watched Fushimi's fingers disappear inside him, up to the knuckles partially obscured by his balls. "Unless you liked the pain?" Fushimi's lips curled cat like behind Yata.

"No!" Yata paniced, "I like this," he immediately rejected the expulsion and flushed at his reflection. 

"Then I'll continue," Fushimi slowly pushed a third wet finger inside to the knuckle, making Yata gasp a shuddering breath. Fushimi splayed his fingers and Yata's irises were consumed by his pupils, releasing a high keening noise. He thrust his fingers roughly Yata could hardly keep up with just panting. 

Fingers left him and Yata felt empty, whimpering from the loss of pressure. Fushimi coated his erection in the lubricant and firmly gripped Yata's hips, urging the smaller onto his lap. 

"Slowly," Fushimi warned, he angled his erection at Yata's slowly descending backside. Yata whimpered as he felt Fushimi's head rub against his entrance, he hesitated . The grip on his hips tightened, pulling him down. Yata felt like he was being impaled, Fushimi's cock spreading him so wide he thought he was coming apart. 

Yata's eyes were still on his reflection, watching himself be speared, precum leaking down his shaft. He felt his backside meet thighs, Fushimi shuddered a sigh into his hair. He felt like his belly was full of dick.

"Watch me fuck you, Misaki," Fushimi whispered scandalously into Yata's ear, "watch my cock penetrate you again and again," Yata moaned despite himself. 

Fushimi took Yata's legs from under the knee, held them high and wide apart so that the other could clearly see where their bodies joint. He thrust up into Yata and the boy released an ear splitting moan. 

The sight of Fushimi pounding in and out of him made Yata's erection twitch. The indecent sound of wailing moans and grunts and the slapping of skin on skin filled the room. 

"Misaki makes such sweet noises," Fushimi said between thrusts, panting against the nape of Yata's neck. Fushimi built up a steady rhythm, Yata grit his teeth and whined. 

"Hah, S-saru," Yata forced between pants and moans. "P-please," he drew out into a groan. 

"Please what Misaki?" Fushimi breathed heavily, not sounding nearly as affected as the boy bouncing on his lap. 

"T-t, hah," he looked at Fushimi's eyes reflected in the mirror. "Touch it, please," Yata whined.

"Well," Fushimi huffed, "since you asked so nicely," he reached around the front of Yata and wrapped long boney fingers around the neglected erection. He tugged Yata in time with his thrusts, the smaller came quickly in his hand moaning wantonly, mouth agape. 

Fushimi stood making Yata stand in turn, untying and taking one of the redhead's hands and bracing it against the mirror. His fingers painfully dug into Yata's hip as he pounded mercilessly into the panting, twitching mess of a boy and came with a groan through gritted teeth. 

They collapsed backward onto the bed, limbs dangling haphazardly off the edge. Fushimi's phone buzzed in his pocket and he ignored it as usual. The smaller covered his face with his arms, heaving breaths. Fushimi watched fondly as the older calmed visibly, his fingers traced delicate designs on Yata's stomach. 

"What is this?" Fushimi's eyes snapped to Yata's guarded gaze, he panics internally at the redhead's words. Fushimi shrugged nonchalantly and got to his feet, trying to escape the conversation. "That or tell me why joined-" Fushimi cut Yata off with a crushing kiss. 

"Both answers are very simple, Misaki," Fushimi said wickedly, breath ghosting over Yata's face. "This is what it is, no need in naming it," his eyes dared Yata to challenge him on that. "And the second is none of your goddamned business," Fushimi huffed irritably, doing his trousers up standing over Yata. 

"I don't believe any of that," Yata clicked his tongue and covered himself with the bed sheet. Fushimi hesitated in the doorway, unsure if he wanted to placate Yata or crush him. He chose to just leave. 

~~~

Fushimi had felt unwanted and neglected, then sad and lonely. Then a person crashed into his life, fitting completely into the exact space left in his heart. That person had brought him to a place he did not belong, a place where he felt monumentally uncomfortable and did not understand his discomfort. That person was so horribly blind to his woes and troubles, put complete and total faith in a person that Fushimi did not trust, to such an extent as to inspire such spiteful vitriol as to tear their world asunder. Juvenile petulance and emotional immaturity tore them apart and continued to come between the two that were destined for each other.


	4. Chapter 4

Yata wondered what exactly he had expected when he'd asked Fushimi those questions. He'd been continuously asking the brunette the same question since they had parted ways, to no avail. Yata felt very much at the mercy of Fushimi, much to his chagrin.

~~~

"Ah, good morning Misaki," Fushimi said cheerily from his seat at the breakfast table, Yata practically blew steam from his ears fuming. It had been little over a week since they'd last met and Yata didn't know if that little respite was a blessing or a curse. 

"Did you get a key cut or something, fucking-" Yata sighed at length, "how long have you been here?" He shifted uncomfortably at the other's intrusion into his home. 

"I don't think that matters," Fushimi said dismissively, he continued to eat some leftovers that he had found in the fridge. 

"Stop eating my food, asshole," Yata snatched the plastic container and returned it to its place in the fridge. "Why are you here, anyway?" Yata barked disgruntled, Fushimi reached up and rubbed the space between Yata's eyebrows.

"Stop scowling so much," he said dully causing Yata's brows to practically touch, "it'll ruin your pretty face," he brought his fingers to Yata's chin and began to draw the boy forward for a kiss.

"Nuh-ah," Yata stood shaking his head, "I'm not doing any of that with you unless I get some straight answers," he crossed his arms over his chest, as if making a point. Fushimi sighed irritably and sat back in the chair. 

"You can ask me whatever you want and I'll answer as I deem fit," Fushimi stated in a bored tone and gestured for Yata to sit opposite him. Yata sat with a huff.

"Why did you leave?" Yata grit out the words that constantly circled his mind. 

"Pass," Fushimi waved him off. Yata had expected as much, but he still curled his top lip into a sneer.

"Why did you join the blues," Yata spat.

"Pass," Fushimi looked bored but his tone was irritated. 

"Why are you here?" Yata was moving down a very long list in his mind, the boy in front of him only seemed to create questions and never produced any answers.

"Because I wanted to see you, obviously," Fushimi sighed and fiddled with his jacket. 

"D-did you miss me?" Yata tried to sound teasing but failed, he sat rigid in his chair.

"Of course I missed my Misaki," he leant forward, rested his chin on folded hands. The smile that Yata hated spread slowly across Fushimi's face. 

"Why did you follow me to the public restroom?" Yata fisted his hands in the fabric of his shorts under the table, he tried his hardest to maintain eye contact. 

"I was jealous," Fushimi stated simply, Yata wondered how he could say such things so flippantly. 

"Jealous of who?" Yata was confused, shouldn't Fushimi know that he hadn't been with anyone, that no one really had a chance with him.

"Everyone," Fushimi said, voice light and conversational, "everyone you look at and talk to," deep ocean blue eyes bore into skittish fiery amber ones. "Everyone that makes you laugh, everyone that gets your attention, everyone that you give a piece of yourself to," Yata hadn't realised that he'd been holding his breath until it gushed out of him. 

"That's fucking stupid," he said, eyes wide and disbelieving. Fushimi just shrugged in response. "Has it always been like that?" Yata wondered, speaking more to himself his mind getting lost in memory. 

"Perhaps," Fushimi sat back and adverted his eyes, resting his hands on his chest. 

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Yata twisted his mouth with confusion. 

"Would you have?" Fushimi challenged with dark eyes. 

"U-um, probably not," Yata stated at length, Fushimi clicked his tongue. "S-so, you've liked me like this," Yata made some vague gesture in the air, "you've wanted to do those, um, things to me for how long?" Yata ventured tentatively.

"Who said I liked you?" Fushimi said petulantly causing Yata's face to twitch in mortification. 

"That's bullshit Saru!" Yata brought his fists to the small table. "Admit it," he demanded, "admit that you still have feelings for me and..." he swallowed, "a-and I'll do whatever you want this time," Yata pressed his lips firmly into a thin line determined. Silence dragged out as Fushimi mulled the words over in his mind. 

"Would that satisfy your majesty?" Fushimi said mockingly, Yata didn't move an inch. He sighed and sat up straight, staring deep into Yata's hard eyes. "I have feelings for you," he said slowly, "I still have feelings for you," he leant over the table and pressed a slow languid kiss to Yata's lips. Fushimi drew the moment out by leaving those lips little by little, the corners of his mouth curled softly as Yata followed him entranced by the soft touch. "Satisfied?" Fushimi breathed against Yata's lips.

Yata nodded bringing his eyes up to the other slowly, he pressed fingers to his lips.

~~~

Yata quickly found himself naked and panting on top of his bed. Fushimi's mouth oppressed his skin, leaving sinful marks. He could only manage to be vaguely annoyed that Fushimi was still fully clothed, infinitely distracted by the mouth upon him. Fushimi sat up suddenly, making Yata whimper. 

"Masturbate," Fushimi ordered softly, tracing his fingers over the tiny chest below him. 

"W-what?!" Yata spluttered sitting up harshly, weight balanced by his hand that gripped the bed. 

"Masturbate for me like you do for that mirror," Fushimi said smile amused and eyes aroused. 

"I-I don't-" Yata stammered going completely red, slender fingers pressed against his lips.

"Hush," Fushimi implored, he shrugged out of his jacket and got comfortable upon the sheets. "You did say that you'd do whatever I wanted," he teased.

"Y-yeah," Yata clamped his mouth shut, his face was hot. He wasn't one to back out of a promise and began to position himself in front of Fushimi. He jerkily took his semi-hard penis and moved with trepidation. 

"Look at me, Misaki," Fushimi urged voice smokey, Yata swallowed thickly and brought their eyes together. "Put on a real show for me," he drawled, lounging lazily against the wall.

Yata flushed at the scandalous words, his movements become more fluid. His hand glided over his length and squeezed in sensitive places, releasing small moans. Fushimi's visage darkened dramatically at the sight of Yata loosening up, it pushed the smaller to be more bold. 

Eyes hooded and lips slightly parted, Yata picked up speed and began to pant softly. He gently bucked his hips into the motion whining. He curled his free hand in the sheets, unsure of what to do with it. 

"Nng, Saru," Yata groaned as precum spilled over the head, lubricating his movements. 

"Stop," Fushimi said firmly.

"Huh?" Yata whined frustrated, but did as he was told. He rested his hands at his side and balled them in the sheets.

"Fuck yourself," Fushimi said lowly.

"Eh?" Yata exclaimed incredulously, eyebrows shooting through the roof. Fushimi leaned forward, bringing his face mere inches from Yata's.

"Use your fingers to fuck yourself," His breath fanning the redhead's face, "remember how I used my fingers on you last time?" Yata gave one small nod. Fushimi brought the small bottle of lotion from his discarded jacket and handed it to the older. 

Yata was at a lose, he didn't really know how to start or how to sit or if he should even be sitting at all. He chose to kneel, he spread the lotion over his fingers and watched it slimily stick to his hand. Legs spread slightly, he hesitantly reached behind him and started to run his fingers over the puckered skin experimentally. 

Softly pushing a finger inside himself, Yata was surprised by how warm and dry it felt. He also marvelled at how such a tight space had stretched to accustom Fushimi, the thought made him shudder and the muscles around his finger twitched. Yata gasped as the cool wetness on his hand spread across his backside, the sensation was strange but nice, he pushed the digit further inside. 

As he grew accustomed to the sensation, Yata grew in confidence and began to thrust his finger in and out of himself. His hips rolled softly as the movements become more fluid, Yata moaned quietly arching his back. 

"Add another," Fushimi voice was husky and low, it made Yata's erection twitch. He slowly slid the second finger inside beside the other, shuddering lightly. The stretch stung but it wasn't long before Yata had begun to pant and moan again. 

He added the third of his own volition, staring straight into glacial eyes darken with want. And it just wasn't enough, that's that Yata could think as he grew comfortable with the mass of fingers inside him. All thoughts of embarrassment and humiliation were drowned in a sea of desire as Yata's eyes glinted in need at Fushimi. 

"Ah, Saru I-" he moaned, now practically bouncing on his fingers, "I-I want you," Yata whined weakly. 

"Want me hmm?" Fushimi said hazily draped against the wall, "want me how?"

"Want you inside," Yata knitted his brow panting harder, Fushimi did and said nothing. "Please, Saru, I need you inside," he bit back a moan. "I-I want you to fuck me Saru," he said desperately, eyes shining wetly at the other boy. 

Suddenly a thought came to Yata, he remembered Fushimi saying that he was jealous of everyone that Yata came into contact with and had a dark spark of an idea despite himself. 

He bent forward on hands and knees, like the obedient dog Fushimi wanted him to be. Looking up at the dark haired boy from under his lashes, Yata pouted. 

"It-it's you I want, Saru," he drew the boy's name out like he was savouring the taste of it. "You're the only one allowed inside me," confidence rose within him as he began to see how he affected Fushimi. "Don't take that privilege for granted," they both shivered, the words sounding like they were coming from some other Yata. "I-."

Before Yata could utter another word, Fushimi had freed his erection from his trousers and had Yata in his lap. Fushimi groaned through gritted teeth, Yata moaned wantonly mouth agape. Their foreheads came together as they fought to catch their breath, noses rubbing softly. 

"You got what you wanted," Fushimi huffed, "brat." He removed himself from his waistcoat and shirt. "What now, huh?" 

Yata rose and fell on Fushimi, crashing against him like waves. The smaller gripped Fushimi's biceps, the taller pressed his fingertips into Yata's hips with a painful pressure. Fushimi's mouth marked the redhead's chest and neck. Yata's lips and teeth found dark hair and nestled there. 

Their minds full of nothing but the other and a single word: 'mine'.

They shudder into and onto each other, relaxing in the other's embrace. They fell asleep in an uncomfortable twist of limbs: Yata's face was pressed into Fushimi's chest, legs tangled together, Yata had one arm behind and under Fushimi, Fushimi had one between Yata's shoulder blades and another in his hair, Fushimi was pressed against the wall in such a way that it was sure to ache the next day.


	5. Chapter 5

Fushimi blearily opened his eyes and winced at the pain in his neck, he slid further down on the bed. He clicked his tongue at the stiff stains on him and the sheets over him, how his trousers were twisted around his hips and how his glasses were nowhere within his impaired sight. A tearing sound drifted to his ears from the other end of the bed, he sat up with a frustrated huff. 

"Don't get your panties in a twist, you're glasses are on the bedside table, " Yata said heavily, making the atmosphere somewhat tense. Fushimi slapped his hand around until he felt the cool metal in his grasp. 

He slid the glasses on and decided to just take his sodden trousers off instead of righting them. He drew his gaze tentatively toward the owner of the room. Yata had Fushimi's blue carton of cigarettes in his hand and was ripping them apart into a small metal trash can at his feet. 

"I'll just buy more," Fushimi stated simply, eyes hardening at the sight. 

"And I'll just flush 'em," Yata meet Fushimi's eyes daringly. 

Yata's hair was damp, it clung to his skin, droplets of water trailed along his collarbone, the black tank top stuck to the wetter parts of his skin and tiny dark circles of water appeared on his shorts as Yata bent over to discard the carton in his hands. The sight made Fushimi's head spin and heart race, he looked off to the side with huff.

"What's the time?" Fushimi grunted irritably.

"5am," Yata said simply, laying back on his elbows. Fushimi winced, but said nothing. 

"How is it 5am?" Fushimi asked dubiously.

"What do ya mean?" Yata said flatly.

"Well it was morning," Fushimi huffed.

"When I got up yesterday it was almost twelve, hardly morning," he finally turned to the other and shrugged. "Maybe we were just really tired," Yata looked like he'd rather step on broken glass than continue this line of conversation, he didn't want to admit that he'd woken up several times, even eaten. Fushimi had looked so damned tired and thin when he was asleep, Yata couldn't bring himself to wake the other. "Feel free to use the shower," he said stiffly. 

Fushimi opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it and rose from the bed. He lifted his trousers and scrutinised them, there was dried cum smeared all around the crotch area. The dark haired boy clicked his tongue, he could not wear these but he also couldn't borrow any clothes from Yata. 

"U-um," Fushimi was irritated by the sound of his voice, Yata continued to eye him. "Would you be able to wash these?" The tight atmosphere was grating against him, he knew he had to tread lightly when Yata was like this least the smaller lunge at his throat or simply kick him out naked as the day he was born. Yata jumped up from the bed and snatched the fabric from Fushimi's hands. 

"Hmm?" He studied them, "yeah, but it'll take a while, I'll have to scrub the front and I don't have a dryer so you'll have to wait," he said taking his chin in his hand. At this distance Fushimi could clearly see the hickeys he'd left on Yata's neck and collarbone, it thrilled him. 

"That's fine, I don't have anything important to do," Fushimi shrugged nonchalantly. 

"Jeez, you're a real slacker aren't ya?" Yata shook his head as he left the room and padded into the kitchen/living area. Fushimi watched him fill the sink with hot soapy water, leaning on the doorway with arms crossed over his chest. "Will you just have a shower, it's unnerving having you just hanging about naked," Yata bristled not looking behind him, Fushimi could see the blush even from the sliver of Yata's face he could see from where he was standing. 

"Yes your highness," he tread lightly into the shower room and took his time. The hot steamy water helping to wring the tension from his body. All activities with Yata, outside of their bedroom activities, were tense and difficult. He sighed and lent against the tiled wall, bothering the scarred skin across his collarbone. 

When he exited the room, towel hung low around his hips, Yata thrust some fabric at his face. They were a pair of Yata's pyjama bottoms that were large for comfort, he dully dropped the towel and slid into the bottoms. They fit okay, cut just above his ankle and rose over his shin as he sat and clung a little too tight to his hips, but they were fine for now. 

The washing machine spun loudly as Yata soundlessly brought plates of food to the breakfast table. Fushimi blinked, all the kindness was grating against him. He pushed the food around his plate, it had been so long since he had eaten Yata's cooking. His chest ached. 

"Not busy today, no trouble to cause?" Fushimi poked with a raised brow and shoved the rolled up omelette into his mouth, he hummed with satisfaction. 

"Trouble?" Yata exclaimed, "you know what we do, we d-" Fushimi clicked his teeth, "shut the fuck up!" Shreds of what Yata had been chewing speckled Fushimi's face. "I forgot that you're an absolute idiot that doesn't understand anything!" He rose from his chair, the swift motion making it hit the floor loudly. 

"That's my line," Fushimi stated amused, he lived and breathed for that look on Yata's face. The smaller stilled, he had forgotten that Fushimi had changed and wasn't the boy that was his best friend, especially since they were alone. 

"What the fuck happened to you?" Yata whispered darkly, eyes on his feet and hands fisted at his side. Fushimi opened his mouth but Yata slammed his fist upon the table before the other could make a sound. "What the fuck is even happening? I don't get it, I don't understand why you're still here, I don't understand anything, you never say anything," he all but screamed.

"I've said plenty you just haven't-" that twisted mouth began to spill lies and Yata had just had enough.

"No," Yata said viscously, "all you do is say that twisted crap and it never really comes round to us," he gripped the edge of the table, making his knuckles turn white. "I-I would have, I would," he swallowed, words he wanted to say stuck to his tongue. "Fuck it," he span around and forced the washing machine open, spilling water everywhere. 

"What are you doing now?" Fushimi said, bored irritation in his tone. Yata threw the uniform trousers at him, they hit the table before slapping against Fushimi's chest, making the plates of breakfast crash to the floor. 

"Get out," Yata grit out darkly, he knelt at the washing machine, water pooling around him. His chest hurt and just couldn't catch his breath.

"No, you're being ridiculous Misaki," Fushimi strode to the bathroom, Yata stayed where he was, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shorts. "You're lucky that you're such a little homemaker, one towel would not be enough for this mess." The taller came back with all three of Yata's towels in his arms and got to the floor. Fushimi rolled up two of them and pressed them against the unit, so that the water wouldn't damage it and began to mop the rest up with the other. Yata began to shake, he got to his feet, stepped into his shoes and left. 

Fushimi's head snapped up at the loud crack of the door slamming, he clicked his tongue and continued to clean the floor. He wondered why he'd fallen asleep instead leaving, why didn't leave the instant he'd woken up those several times, why he'd agreed to answer any of Yata's dumb questions. He put it down to his libido and even he didn't believe that. 

~~~

His shoes felt weird without socks but Yata sure as hell wasn't going back to get a pair, not whilst that stupid monkey was still there. 

The words he'd been so close to saying twisted viscously in his chest as he trudged down familiar streets. It was barely 6am, the streets were practically empty and he hated it. When he was alone, knowing who was waiting at his apartment, it was like nothing had changed. It as though Yata was still that small thing, easily crushed that could do nothing when he was alone, he felt powerless. He was just one tiny ship battling against a storm that would ultimately consume him. 

The bar wouldn't be open at this time, Yata wondered if it'd be ok to just sit on the steps and wait or maybe if they wouldn't mind if he knocked. A dim smile spread across his face as he remembered that this was his family, bonds thicker than blood and they'd be there for him just as he'd be there for them. 

"I've been spending too much time with that depressing bastard," Yata muttered to himself as he mounted the steps to the bar. He knocked lightly, raping his knuckles against the solid wood door. 

The door swung open swiftly, a smiling Totsuka stood in the opening. 

"Ah, Yata-chan good morning," he beamed, Yata swore that the guy actually sparkled, he was the exactly opposite of Fushimi, just what Yata needed. 

"Mornin' Totsuka-san, ya gonna let me in?" he said, the usual edge returning to his voice. 

"Yes, of course," Totsuka stepped aside, closed and locked the door behind Yata. "Is something bothering you Yata-chan?" he said concern just barely touching his sunny voice. 

Yata slumped on the sofa, this was the thing he loved and hated most about Totsuka. 

"W-why would you think that Totsuka-san?" Yata tried to dodge, he just wanted to have agreeable company. He needed a place to breathe.

"Well, it is 6am," Totsuka smiled, "and you're not wearing your hat or your sweater, you don't have your skateboard-"

"A-alright!" Yata spluttered.

"Not to mention those marks all over your neck and chest," Yata slapped his face with his palm, he was far too embarrassed to deal with this. "It's good to know that Yata-chan finally has someone that he would allow to do that," Tostuka said simply and sat down next to Yata on the sofa. 

"I didn't really allow them to..." Yata looked off to the side pouting and blushing furiously. 

"Well, it's still nice that you have someone that you're comfortable with," Totsuka tilted his head and hummed. He scooted closer along the sofa and Yata gripped the leather, sensing impending doom. "Is Yata-chan having relationship issues?" Yata twisted his mouth shut.

"N-no?" Yata wanted to punch himself at how absolutely stupid he sounded, he decided to shake his head for added effect. 

"I'm sure you can work it out, Yata-chan's never had a problem with wearing his heart on his sleeve," Totuska patted him on the back and smiled sunnily, Yata just sat there staring at Totsuka with his mouth agape. "Do you really want everyone to see those," Totsuka just simply pointed vaguely at the marks, "you know how they get," he then poked Yata's nose.

"U-uh, yeah," Yata stood and rubbed the back of his head, "thanks Totsuka-san," he bowed sheepishly and left quickly. 

Yata walked the path home slowly, trying to strengthen his resolve. He had swallowed his words earlier because he knew what he would get in return, his steps became more confident the further he went; but so what if Fushimi spat hurtful crap at him, Yata would yell his feelings at the other until they got through to that cold hard heart. 

~~~

Fushimi finished mopping up the water and looked around for a place to let the towels dry, he draped two over the back of the chair and one over the bedroom door. He put the remainder of their breakfast in the bin and put the plates in the sink. He rung his trousers until they no longer dripped, put on his shirt, waist coat, jacket and boots then left. 

Stupid Misaki and his stupid feelings and insistence on sharing them, insistence that Fushimi share them too. What would be the point, nothing would change at all, he scratched idly at the scar on his collarbone gripping the sodden fabric tightly. 

He clicked his tongue, as if Misaki would understand anything about what he went through. Things were perfect the way they were, the anger and the fucking and the manipulation, it was all perfect. Absolutely no reason to change anything whatsoever. 

Fushimi strode toward Scepter 4 and the dorms, sure he'd get an earful from Awashima for missing an entire day of work, but he didn't care. He couldn't summon the effort to care about much of anything. 

After a while, Fushimi was aware that he was being followed and instantly knew who it was. A wicked smile cracked across his face.

_I hope you still like games, Misaki._


	6. Chapter 6

Yata stood in front of his apartment, hesitating for just a moment before thrusting his keys into the lock and sheepishly pushed the door open. He found the apartment empty and knew that he must have just missed Fushimi. Yata turned on his heels and left again. 

He stepped with purpose as he searched the streets leading to the blue's headquarters. After a few minutes of brisk walking, he saw the unmistakable swish of dark hair and dropped back a little. Yata kept a decent distance from Fushimi, trying his best not to be seen.

They quickly approached the headquarters, Yata's nails dug into his palms. He was going to get in there and give Fushimi the talking to of his life, no matter what. 

As Yata approached the gates, someone bumped into him and he lost sight of Fushimi. He rushed to the iron bars, he couldn't see anyone in the courtyard. Yata punched the gate with grunt, he put his forehead to the cold iron and rolled over to face the curb. 

Standing before him was that smug grin, he noted that Fushimi was still wearing him pyjama bottoms. Fushimi strode toward him silently, putting an arm around Yata as he entered the code for the gate. The loud mechanical noise of the gates parting shook Yata to the core, was he actually going inside the blue's headquarters? 

"I-I have something to say to you," Yata bashfully struggled in Fushimi's grip. "Do you have minute, I mean, to-" Fushimi pulled Yata along into the courtyard. "Whoa! W-what are you doing," Yata dragged his feet, "S-saru!" 

"Do you want everyone to hear you?" Fushimi said simply, smile thinly veiling the menace behind it. Yata swallowed and allowed himself to be dragged into the large serious of buildings. 

They went through corridor after corridor with Yata not meeting the eyes of anyone. It boiled his innards to be so compliant in the belly of the enemy, let alone letting the boy that was supposed to be his rival pull him about, the boy he was supposed to want dead. 

Yata was thrown into a room, staggering his steps. He rested his hand on the frame of the bunk, they were in Fushimi's dorm room. 

"Ah, my package finally arrived," Fushimi said cheerily eyeing the box on the small table. Yata began to talk as Fushimi fussed over the box. 

"U-um, well I wanted to talk to you Saru about things," Yata felt like bashing his head against the bed frame. "I-I said would...and I still would-" he sighed rubbing the back of his head. "I've always been ready to-are you even listening?" Yata cut himself when he noticed he didn't have Fushimi's full attention. 

Styrofoam shapes spilled from the packaging as Fushimi pulled out another box. Yata did not like the gleam in Fushimi's eyes, he tried to convince himself that it was just the lights glinting off of the other's glasses. 

"I got this for you, Misaki," Fushimi spun around on his heels, Yata stepped back against the bed frame. "Shall we try it out now, hmm?" Fushimi's smile made Yata shrink. 

"I -I really think we should just talk," Yata tried, keeping his eyes on Fushimi's not daring to look at the box in the other's hands. "Saru," he brought his hands pleadingly, "can we just talk, plea-" lips crushed his own and the words were sucked from his throat. 

Fushimi threw the box onto the bottom bunk and began to nibble on Yata's ear, the smaller released a strangled groan. Fushimi's hands glided over sensitive skin and Yata fell apart.

It wasn't long before the redhead was yet again naked under Fushimi, panting and riving. The taller was touching him everywhere except where he wanted to be touched, his lips were neglected and Fushimi skirted around Yata's groin. The smaller fisted the sheets and whined, unable to do much else.

"I'm so glad you followed me here," Fushimi said, voice dripping with want, "I have so much fun stuff here, Misaki," and as if to prove his point, he pulled a twist of long red rope from under the bed. 

And before Yata could find the sense of mind to protest, Fushimi had him bound in the rope. It held his arms tightly to his back, tied his legs together at the ankles and wound around his body like a serpent. He'd often likened Fushimi to a snake in his mind, smart, deceitful, alluring, he just couldn't seem to keep away. 

"So, Misaki, do you wanna see what I got you?" Fushimi whispered darkly into Yata's ear, sending shivers down his spine. He looked weakly at the younger, he still wasn't sure if this was the worst idea he'd ever had.

"Hmm Saru?" he whined as Fushimi lent over him to retrieve the previously discarded box. It was brought into Yata's view and opened slowly with skilful hands. The box was pink and small, he could see batteries inside through the clear plastic front. The inner casing slid from the box with ease and Fushimi smiled wickedly at the sight of it, Yata analysed the plastic. There was a small round pink ball with a wire or string coming from it to a small box with controls on it, Yata had absolutely no idea what the hell it was. 

"I can't wait to use this," Fushimi said gleefully.

"U-um, what is it exactly?" Yata said tentatively. 

"I'll show you," Fushimi said as he tore open the plastic packaging with one of his hidden blades. He withdrew the device and inserted the batteries, Fushimi slid the pad of his finger up and down the controls and watched as the round pink shape in his other hand began to vibrate. 

"What are you gonna do with that?" Yata yelled incredulously and fell backward onto the sheets.

"Don't worry Misaki, you'll love it," Fushimi put the device off to one side and crawled over Yata. He gently and deliberately kissed the smaller slowly in languid motions, whilst he fisted Yata's erection drawing a restrained moan from the other. "Worried about someone hearing us?" Fushimi said teasingly over Yata's lips. 

Fushimi sat back and pulled that familiar small bottle from his jacket, he coated the pink oblong in the viscose fluid. The dark haired boy rolled Yata over so that the other was kneeling in front of him, face on the sheets and ass in the air. Yata wasn't really sure why he complied, but he'd come this far so why stop now? 

Yata felt something cool and round slip inside him, Fushimi tucked the controls under some rope against the redhead's inner thigh and pushed the slider up two notches. Yata gasped at the new sensation, it was weird. Fushimi pushed the vibrator further inside and slid it up the slider another two notches, Yata moaned loudly.

"Saru," it was meant to be a curse but came out like a prayer. 

"Fushimi-kun?" a voice and knocking came from the door and Fushimi suddenly had a wicked idea. He bundled Yata up in his arms and strode over to the closet in the opposite side of the room. 

"W-what the hell are ya doing Saru?" Yata whispered sharply, the vibrator still thrumming inside him. 

Fushimi stayed silent, opened the built in closet and all but dropped Yata inside. The smaller released a cry that was half curse and half moan, he grit his teeth. Fushimi closed the closet and answered the incessant knocking at the door. Yata watched him through the slates in the closet door and began to plan that fucking monkey's demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably gonna be a little while before I write more, but I have everything planned. Thanks for all the wonderful kudos guys.


	7. Chapter 7

Some dandy twat with long hair stepped through the open door as Yata thought about setting Fushimi on fire. They spoke but Yata couldn't hear over the vibrating inside him and thrumming rage flowing through him. He felt so utterly stupid for allowing his feelings for the other to take him over, for following Fushimi here to spill his feelings. As if that twisted monkey would listen let alone care. 

Fushimi pushed the long haired boy against the wall and leaned in, kicking the door closed as he whispered into the boy's ear. Yata's eyes went wide as he watched the boy shudder when Fushimi slid his tongue into a wet mouth. He wanted out then, he wanted to get up and leave, at least spare him this humiliation. 

Yata grit his teeth, hating the pleasurable pulsing of the vibrator inside him. He cursed his body as a traitor, it always bent to Fushimi's will despite his desperate pleas. Yata couldn't take his eyes away, sure that Fushimi would stop this bad joke soon enough, all of Fushimi's jokes were in poor taste. 

It dawned on him, as the two boys he spied on through the closet slates hit the bed, that Fushimi had never lived up to his expectations. If anything, it seemed that Fushimi constantly did the opposite of what Yata had hoped he would. Clothes hit the floor and Yata was taken back to the alleyway, the sight reminded him of fingers aflame over his pride. 

Yata went numb, he just wanted this to be over. Yata wondered how Fushimi saw him, as an obedient dog or some sort of doll? He made a promise to himself then, he promised to never be Fushimi's play thing again. 

He hardly noticed when Fushimi finally opened the closet door, propped him on the bed and untied him. Yata didn't even look at him.

Fushimi gently pulled the vibrator from Yata and saw the dead look in the smaller boy's eyes, he already regretted his actions. Fushimi could see that there was a thick dark line dividing what was acceptable and what wasn't, he knew he was standing on the wrong side of it, he always seemed to be. Hell, the fuck he'd given Akiyama wasn't even that good. 

Why had he done this? Fushimi mentally chastised himself as he slowly dressed an uncharacteristically quiet Yata. Oh right, his pride, his selfishness, his denial of emotions, his absolute denial of emotions towards Yata. At least back then, back in the alley, he had been able to walk away, but now he had to deal with the aftermath of his outrageously stupid actions and escort Yata home. 

Yata stood then and made for the door, still not looking at Fushimi. The taller grabbed Yata's wrist, the touch was noticeably softer and it grated against the smaller.

"Where are you going?" Fushimi said softly knowing he had to tread very lightly least Yata explode.

"Home," came the dead tone from Yata, still not looking at the other.

"Yeah and I'll take you. You can't just walk around here without an escort, people will think you're here to cause trouble," Fushimi said carefully as he got to his feet. 

The walk to Yata's apartment was slow, silent and torturous. They walked side by side but could feel the vast canyon stretch out between them. As they approached the door, Fushimi began to mildly panic. On one hand he wanted in to that apartment to clear things up, to pull Yata back to his side. On the other Fushimi wanted to run, run far away from anything close to these icky emotions and bury his head in the sand. 

As Yata slowly unlocked the door, Fushimi stood paralyzed by indecision. He wanted his Misaki back, the one that screamed and yelled and swung at him surrounded in clawing flames. The Misaki that wore his heart on his sleeve, not this pale shell. 

Yata didn't hesitate in slamming the door in Fushimi's face when he crossed the threshold into his apartment. Fushimi realised he only had hands for breaking, he knew how to fix all sorts of things like computers, kotatsu, the bed that time Yata had kicked it so hard it buckled, the rice cooker, most things really; but he did not know how to fix this, he did not possess the tools required for such a task. Fushimi deviated, stood at the door for far too long, he trudged quietly back to the dorms.

The night was beautiful and it mocked the pair of them.

~~~

The shot rang out for miles, but no one paid it any notice.

Yata scrambled up the stairs, Kusanagi-san not far behind. He nearly slipped several times.

"It's fine, Yata-chan, it'll all work out."

The sky was beautiful even on a night like this.

~~~

"Mi~sa~ki~~~" A vicious twist of syllables.

"Don't say my fucking name creep!" His fist aflame cut through the chilling air.

The world around them was a blur, all they could see was the other. The rest hardly seemed to matter when they were together, not that either of them noticed. They hid their excitement with words of duty and honour, they hid their love or something close to it with a sword of blue and a bat of red. 

Alone they couldn't defeat each other, together they couldn't defeat the dog. They lacked unification, respect and insight in the dog's eyes, they were also as stubborn as mules. 

Yata raised his fist to the snowy air, tears running down his face as he chanted along with his fellow clansmen. He saw the lanky snap of Fushimi's figure, he imagined that he could see that stupid petulant pout as that idiot monkey scratched at the ruined skin over his collarbone. 

"Bakazura!" Yata screamed harder than he had been, his throat burned. 

~~~

This time Fushimi knocked and as always Yata answered.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been days and although he had spent most of that time with his friends from Homra, Yata felt adrift. He felt guilty for not thinking of Mikoto or Totsuka, but the events of the last week or so made him think about his ex-best friend. They had ended things so stupidly and that could have been the last time that they saw each other. 

Yata laid his head on the cold kitchen table, pressed his forehead to the hard surface. His mind was full of death, all he could think of were what ifs. What if he died today? He hadn't told Fushimi how he felt, they hadn't fixed things or even cleared up much of anything. He hadn't told Fushimi how much he meant to him or how much of a stupid asshole he is. 

He buried his head in his folded arms and watched the bleak winter sun shine through his curtains as it was setting. Yata wanted to run to Fushimi, gag him and finally tell him everything, but he was still scared of the twisted reaction he knew he'd get. 

"Coward," he whispered to himself. 

Soft tapping came from the window then, Yata got up and slowly made his way toward it. He moved the curtains aside and looked down onto the streets. Looking up at him throwing stones at his window was none other than that glasses wearing menace. Fushimi waved and pointed toward building, Yata wondered if he should let Fushimi in or tell him to piss off. Before he'd even finished the thought, Yata was at the door pressing the button on the intercom that unlocked the door into the building.

As he stood there waiting for the inevitable knock, Yata wondered why Fushimi hadn't just snuck in like he usually did. The knock was a gentle rap against the flimsy wood of the door, Yata opened it slowly and stepped aside making room for the guest. Fushimi silently stepped into the apartment, only then did Yata notice that he wasn't wearing his uniform. 

Fushimi stopped just in front of Yata, face pensive. His pride ate away at him and he decided to just get it over with before he lost his nerve. Fushimi knelt in front of the redhead, sitting back on his heels and looked up at Yata. 

"Do what you need to do to me, say what you need to say so we can move on," Fushimi grit out, he pressed his lips into a tin line whilst he waited for Yata to do something. 

Yata undid his shorts and pulled himself from his boxers, Fushimi was mildly surprised but didn't move an inch. Yata brought his soft cock to Fushimi's mouth and the other took it willingly. 

"You were everything to me," Yata's voice was brittle as his fingers twisted painful in Fushimi's hair. "I admired you, I thought that you were so amazing and I-I was so small and useless," he moved his hips slowly as Fushimi stared up at him silently. "You could have gotten into high school no problem, but you didn't want to and I followed you, practically throwing away an education for a future with you," his voice cracked. "It was so perfect, wasn't it?" his lips quivered at the long lost memory. "Our small world, only you and me," Fushimi felt Yata beginning to get hard and continued to huff breaths through his nose. "I still don't really understand why you hate Homra, but I know you probably didn't think that you belonged there," he stopped a moment, swallowing emotions that threatened to drown him, "but he saved your life and I couldn't think of anyone else to go to, I was so... scared," Yata began to shake and the fiction of it made him shudder a gasp. "And I thought everything was fine, even though it obviously wasn't, but you could have, you should have fucking told me," his eyes brimmed with tears as he pulled out of Fushimi's mouth and promptly kicked the taller in the stomach. 

Fushimi laid panting on the floor, chocking on apologies he still wouldn't allow out. Yata crouched, hiding himself and drew his fingers through his hair. 

"What you did in the alley, that was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me," his voice wavered, Fushimi didn't dare look at him, eyes glued to the wooden panel flooring. "You were the world to me, yeah I may have gotten more friends, spent less time with you or whatever kind of bullshit that comes to that twisted mind of yours, but you mean so much to me and you just threw it all away," tears began to slid down his face and he sniffed hard. "And I never gave up on you, I always thought that someday you'd come back, at least to me. Totsuka asked about you and I said that if you came back and apologised that I'd kneel beside you or for you," Yata whimpered as he remembered his words, remembered the stone hard conviction in his voice when he had first spoke those words. "Goddammit Saru, I said I'd fucking die for you and you have the gall to say that I don't understand and all that other bullshit," he wrung the fabric of his sweatshirt and tried to hold himself together. "And then you came back to me, in your own sadistic and cruel way, but you came back to me. We were getting closer and things were getting easier and that day, that fucking day I was seconds away from telling you all this, from telling you how much I love your shitty self and you have to go and do that because you can't fucking accept that you deserve nice things and-" Yata cut himself off with a frustrated scream.

He marched toward Fushimi pulled him to his feet, Yata slammed Fushimi's face against the kitchen table, the crunched of his glasses reminded Yata of the tearing sound he imagined his heart making in the alleyway. Yata pulled Fushimi's jeans and boxers down to his thighs and thrust into him harshly. The dark haired boy gripped the table and bit hard enough into his lip to draw blood. It had hurt Yata just as much since he was only semi-erect and Fushimi was much too tight, but Yata didn't care he just wanted to tear down the wall between them. He didn't move, much to Fushimi's dismay. 

"Misa-" Fushimi cut himself off with a high pitched whine as Yata thrust into him once.

"Apologise," Yata said darkly, "apologise and I'll make this easier on the both of us," his voice was tight and strained as he fought the mix of pain and pleasure. 

"Wha-" this time he practically screamed as Yata pushed into him harshly. Fushimi knew he deserved this pain and humiliation, but wasn't that enough? Why did Yata have to show him mercy or even give him the option of it. 

"Apologise you shitty fuck for fuck sake!" Yata barked as the tears dried on his twisted face. Fushimi then realised that it wasn't about giving him forgiveness, since Yata was always ready to do that, it was to give the smaller some sort of release. 

"I-I," Fushimi swallowed trying to clear his coarse throat, "I'm sorry, Misaki," he said through gritted teeth, face pressed into the tabletop, knuckles going white where he gripped the edge of the table. 

Yata left him then, his knees buckled instantly. Fushimi was very unused to that kind of pain mixed with high emotions, he just knelt there breathing heavily. Yata pulled him up from under his arms and dragged the dark haired boy into the bedroom. 

He laid Fushimi atop the bed gently and straddled him, delicately removed the shattered remains of glasses from that bleak face. Yata brushed fingertips under Fushimi's chin, bringing their eyes together. Fushimi took in the sight and committed it to memory as a form of punishment for being such an idiot. Yata looked tired, as though he hadn't slept for days, tears stained his cheeks, his eyes were red and the colour had drained from his skin. Fushimi sat up on his elbows and gently kissed and lapped at the dried tears, a chant he was only half aware of circled his mind and spilled from his lips. 

"I'm sorry," a constant prayer whispered against Yata's skin, he kissed the idiot just to shut him up.

Yata brought his hand to the nape of Fushimi's neck, pulling the other closer and making the kiss deeper. Fushimi brought his hands to Yata's face and held it as though it were a priceless vase. Small fingers unbuttoned the dark haired boy's shirt, long slender fingers slipped into red hair softly pushing the hat off. Yata slid his hand under the open shirt lightly caressing the scarred flesh, pushing the fabric aside. He brought his mouth to the skin and kissed it delicately.

"Did you ever treat this?" Yata mumbled against the marred skin. "Or was this a punishment you subconsciously gave yourself," Fushimi clicked his tongue, slipping his hands under and up Yata's sweatshirt. 

"Hush," Fushimi's brow was furrowed but the word was soft. He wrapped his fingers around Yata's sides and pulled the smaller closer, pushing the sweatshirt up over the other's head. 

The next kiss was soft, pure and achingly sweet, so much so that Fushimi wondered if touching Yata would rot him. They kissed and held each other close, they were convincing themselves that the other was there solid and real. 

Yata stood and discarded his remaining clothes urging Fushimi to do the same. He opened the draw of the bedside table, finally blushing as he brought out the small bottle of lotion.

"I knew it," Fushimi whispered harshly as though he'd been wronged. Yata sent him a glare of such force even though Fushimi couldn't really see it, he could sense the daggers sent his way and shut his mouth. 

Yata settled between Fushimi's bent legs and coated his fingers in the fluid. He pulled Fushimi to kneel above him and brought his lips to the other's aching flesh, Fushimi sighed blissfully. 

"I missed you," Fushimi whined keenly as Yata slid a finger inside him. 

One, became two and then three as Fushimi slowly opened up to Yata, his fingers twisted into red hair. Yata left him when he started to repeat his oldest prayer, the smaller boy's name. 

"Hng, Misaki," he held himself above Yata close enough to see the desire and love clearly in those eyes. "Misaki, please," Fushimi whined as pre cum dripped onto Yata's stomach. He didn't miss the groan or the twist of mouth or the darkening of that blush that appeared as he begged. "Misaki, don't you want to be inside me?" Fushimi implored, his pleading face was only half a lie. "You're the only one I want Misaki, you're the only one I see," he pressed their hips together, slow and hard. "Fuck me, Mi-sa-ki~," Fushimi moaned.

Yata switched their positions so fast it made Fushimi's head spin. He coated his erection in the lotion and crawled up Fushimi's body, the other twisted his legs around him. Yata pressed slowly into Fushimi, hands gripping skin like an anchor. His body shook as he came to a stop, the dark haired boy released a breath he'd been holding eyes screwed shut. 

"H-haven't you done this before?" Yata asked, clueless. Fushimi laughed dryly and the motion of it felt weird against Yata. 

"Aww, Misaki's still so blind and innocent," he tightened he legs around Yata, pulling the other deeper and grit his teeth. Yata tried to restrain a groan through his clenched jaw. "I've only ever been with two people," Fushimi said from under his arm, hiding from his own stupidity. Yata was only momentarily frozen in shock before he started yelling.

"Fucking hell Saru, you are the worst you know that!" Then Yata started laughing so hard it brought tears to his eyes. "You're going to be the death of me, you fucking moron," he leant down to place kisses all over Fushimi's face. 

"Takes one to know one," Fushimi bit out as he reluctantly kissed back.

Yata began slowly and gently, speaking his love through his actions and forcing Fushimi to receive it. The sounds that came from that wicked mouth that he loved and hated in turn, were a symphony of _ah Misaki, more, ah, please, Misaki, Misaki._ He bent Fushimi over, bringing knees his to stomach, and gave a particularly hard thrust causing Fushimi to actually scream. Yata instantly stopped, worry flowing over his face like water.

"D-did I hurt you?" Yata asked voice thick with concern.

"Misaki, if you don't continue I swear to God I will snap your skateboard in half," he said darkly causing Yata's face to twist in horror, Fushimi sighed at length. "No, you didn't hurt me," Fushimi grit out, blushing, "it was just really good," he adverted his eyes in embarrassment.

Yata continued, aiming for the same spot with each thrust. Fushimi grew louder and louder, it made Yata's entire body flush and urged him on.

"Jeez," he said between thrusts, "I wouldn't have," he groaned as a particularly shrill scream came from the boy beneath him. "I wouldn't have thought that you'd be so," he searched for the right word in his hazey mind, "vocal," Yata settled. 

Fushimi took one of Yata's hands and brought it to his hard member, moaning and gasping for air all the while. Yata gripped him firmly and moved with as much force as his body would allow. Fushimi watched Yata's abdominal muscles flex as a bead of sweat rolled down the tanned skin. He looked up find the smaller's brow furrowed with the effort, always trying so hard to impress and please him. They shuddered into each other, Yata whined Fushimi's name while the other released a strangled rasp. 

The smaller boy collapsed on top of Fushimi in a heaving heap, whispering.

"I love you, you bastard," warm words came out as a scornful curse as Yata's eyes fluttered closed. 

"I love you too," Fushimi murmured into the hair of the sleeping boy. 

~~~

Yata woke up to the smell of something burning and the sound of cursing coming from the kitchen. He groaned groggily as he sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. He slipped on a clean pair of boxers and padded into the kitchen/living space where Fushimi was making a mess of some eggs and herbs. The taller was glancing back and forth from his PDA to the frying pan as Yata yawned behind him.

"You're letting it sit too long," Yata stated simply, voice thick with sleep. 

"You weren't supposed to wake up?" Fushimi groaned, shirt barely done up Yata's eyes caught on the jut of his ribs.

"I'll handle this you just go and make some coffee, it's all you're good for," Yata curled his fingers around the handle of the pan and gripped the spatula like they were extensions of his arms. Fushimi sighed in defeat and made his way to the coffee pot, his bare thigh grazed Yata's hip causing the smaller to yelp in surprise. "Why the fuck aren't you wearing any underwear!?" Yata barked.

"Why should I?" Fushimi shrugged as he filled the pot up, silencing Yata.

Yata managed to save the omelettes and boiled some rice, a meagre lunch but he had always thought that food tasted better when shared with a friend. Fushimi brought the coffees to the table and Yata winced as the other sat down, mourning the lost innocence of his chair. He then dumbly realised that he himself had ruined the innocence of the table and grimaced at the tabletop. 

"I should get a new table and chairs," Yata mumbled as sipped the bitter coffee. 

"You should get a new apartment, this one's too small and there's mould and it's in a crappy area a-" Fushimi was cut off by a sharp kick to his shin. 

"Alright mum," Yata barked indignantly before shovelling food into his mouth, Fushimi rolled his eyes and made a disgusted face with a twist of his mouth. "A-are you going to work today?" He ventured tentatively, poking his rice with the chopsticks. 

"Yeah, I should be going soon," Fushimi said eyes skittish, they finished their breakfast in silence.

"Shower with me," Yata said breathily, Fushimi followed him as he stood and strode toward the bathroom. They washed each other, the act vastly removed from anything sexual and was wholly romantic and earnest. The honest loving look on Yata's face as he rubbed soap into skin, made Fushimi's cynical and twisted side bark at him and for the first time in while he ignored it. 

~~~

Fushimi stopped in the doorway, turning to Yata. He'd always thought of the redhead as a loyal puppy that would eagerly await his return. Emotions churned in the pit of his stomach as he remembered leaving this loyal happy puppy in an alleyway and it had eagerly awaited his return, not listening to anyone who told him otherwise. 

"I-I'll be back," Fushimi swallowed trying to keep the blush at bay, "I promise I'll be back later," he said sternly with all the conviction he could muster. The sound of Yata's laughter rang through his ear like the sweetest music he had ever heard.

"Be back for dinner asshole," Yata beamed as he softly closed the door. He smiled to himself as he heard the shrill annoying laughter of Fushimi disappear down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love it when Yata tops!!


	9. Chapter 9

"So, have you got a job yet?" Fushimi asked as he K.Oed Yata's avatar on the screen that lit the dark room. Yata sighed and dropped the controller on the floor in front of him. 

"U-um, Kusanagi-san said I could work in the kitchen if I wanted to," he said nervously. Fushimi sighed and put his arm over Yata's shoulder.

"You can talk about them to me you know," he grit out, "I've got to learn how to be an adult some time, don't I?" He kissed the top of Yata's head and nuzzled into the red locks. 

"S-saru?" Yata barked blushing furiously. 

"You should take the job idiot," Fushimi said fondly. 

"I always beat you at Mario Kart," Yata whined looking up from under Fushimi's arm.

"It's a baby's game," Fushimi groaned pouting and Yata couldn't help but kiss that stupid look right off of his face.

~~~

Yata started to notice that Fushimi's things were slowly making their way into his apartment. It was made painstakingly obvious because he barely had enough room for his own things let alone all of Fushimi's crap too. It started as it always does, with a toothbrush and of course it was blue so Yata made a point of buying a red one. Then it was a few items of clothing since he was staying there so much, it made sense to Yata. After that was the exotic teas that Fushimi liked to sip on and pretend that he was cultured, Yata scolded Fushimi for wasting his cupboard space but kept them all the same. What didn't make sense though was the paper cranes that he'd find dotted all over the place.

"Are you even counting these?" Yata waved the coffee jar full of origami in Fushimi's face, he clicked his tongue like usual.

"Not really," he said dismissively.

"Do you really think that you need to make a wish on something that you don't believe in just to keep me with you?" Yata tried his best not to sound hurt but Fushimi had a way of always twisting the knife. 

"Misaki," he sighed, "I just have a feeling that I'm going to fuck this up," he turned his eyes to his feet pensively. 

"Saru," Yata called, Fushimi looked up slowly as Yata drew him into a soft kiss. "You're so annoying."

~~~

The stark winter sun speared the sky as Yata whimpered pressed flush against a tree. Fushimi lay feather light kisses up and down Yata's neck, tickling the smaller. 

"S-saru?" Yata whined as Fushimi cupped him through the fabric of his jeans, which the taller had made him wear since it had started snowing properly. "Anyone could walk past and see us," he whispered whilst half-heartedly trying to push Fushimi away. The other leaned in further bringing lips to the shell of Yata's ear, the smaller screwed his eyes shut as breath caressed the sensitive flesh. 

"That's why I'm doing it, Misaki gives the best reactions this way," Fushimi whispered directly into Yata's ear causing the redhead to shiver with delight and turn a furious shade of red simultaneously. 

Fushimi had called him to the park on the pretence of having lunch together, just to publicly humiliate him. Yata, innocent as ever to the subtle inflections Fushimi pressed upon certain words, had made them lunch and brought it to the park. Fushimi saw it as an added bonus, even with the gross amount of fruit. He suggested that they take a walk together after the meal and when he was certain no one was looking, he dragged Yata to an out of the way tree in a lesser used part of the park. 

Slender fingers slipped into Yata's pants and twisted around him, he sighed into the touch. Fushimi put his lips back to bothering Yata's neck as the latter shifted and struggled to keep sounds in his throat. 

Suddenly Fushimi dropped to his knees, Yata wasn't sure if he groaned with disdain or desire. The dark haired boy slid Yata's hard flesh from its confines and brought it to his mouth, keeping eye contact with the older all the while. It didn't take long before Yata was a shuddering, blubbering, beetroot faced mess, he came with a squeak that he was not proud off. Fushimi sat back and put the back of his hand to his mouth as he tried to suppress a giggle.

"Saruhiko," Yata called softly, "you really are the worst," he promptly kicked snow at that wickedly beautiful face. 

~~~

"It's like a ven-diagram," Fushimi said to the incredulous face of Yata.

"A what?" Yata breathed as he lay half over Fushimi, confusion evident in his voice. 

"We did them in school," Fushimi said to a completely blank face, "I was right there when we did it," he groaned.

"Just get to the point Saru," Yata whined sleepily. Fushimi sighed and brought out his PDA, opening it to a drawing app.

"Like this," he said as he drew two overlapping circles. "This," he pointed to one of the circles, "is scepter 4," Yata nodded in acknowledgement. "And this," Fushimi pointed to the other, "is homra."

"What about the place in the middle where they overlap?" Yata asked as he pressed his finger a little too hard against the screen.

"That's us, our world," Fushimi breathed fondly as he nuzzled into Yata's red locks. 

"Ah I get it now," Yata said with conviction.

"No you don't," Fushimi sighed, voice like laughter.

"No I don't," Yata agreed. "It's pretty small," he said as studied the diagram.

"What is?" Fushimi mumbled into Yata's hair. 

"Our world, it's small," Yata stated, Fushimi startled him with a breathy light laugh.

"So are you," he countered, gripping Yata through his boxers. The smaller laughed as he kicked Fushimi in the face and off the bed.


	10. Chapter 10

The train was packed and Yata thought that he couldn't have been closer to Fushimi if they'd been fucking. He felt the taller boy's hot breath fan his forehead, Fushimi's hip was stabbing his stomach and he could feel something else against his naval too. 

It was Fushimi's fault that they had to get the rush hour train, since he'd insisted that they go to some boring as hell museum. Yata had suffered the constant lecture on how uncultured he was just hoping that the other was actually enjoying himself. Now it was time to make Fushimi suffer, the smaller thought darkly. 

He leaned up into Fushimi and breathed on the exposed skin of the other's neck, Fushimi sucked in air and shot Yata a glare. The redhead brought his hand between them and started to caress Fushimi through his jeans. Yata got up on the tips of his toes to bring his lips to Fushimi's ear. 

"Saru," he whined in a whisper, "I can't wait," Yata bit his lip softly as he stood back a little, Fushimi's face twisted with the effort of restraining himself.

"You're a menace," Fushimi grit out as Yata clung to him, he couldn't do much of anything since his hands were set to the task of keeping the both of them stable. "You're a fucking terror," he groaned when the smaller slipped a hand into his trousers. 

"And you love it," Yata said wickedly, almost drugged by the power. 

And despite it all Yata was still the one with the red face when they left the station.

~~~

_Stop it with the pictures, I'm working unlike some lazy assholes. M._

Yata was at the end of his rope, he'd almost lost several fingers from the copious amount of dirty pictures Fushimi had sent him. The fucker loved to torture him and work was not a safe place. Plus the fact that they were projected from his watch was slowly killing him with embarrassment. 

_Some of us can multitask. S._

He groaned into the chopping board, it was going to be a very long night.

_Let's move in together. S._

Yata hardly noticed the message since Fushimi was wasting his olive oil in the picture, he had known that he'd regret giving that monkey a key. He'd have to disinfect the kitchen later and get more olive oil on the way back home and bend Fushimi over the nearest anything when he got home. 

_My place hardly fits my stuff in it, let alone all of your shit. M._

He didn't send a picture since he actually enjoyed his job and continued fussing around the various pots and pans as Kusanagi-san came to collect someone's order. 

_How about we get our own place? S._

Yata flushed at the picture, the fucker had the audacity to do that shit without him. Fushimi was in his shower touching himself and Yata wasn't sure if he was about to melt into a puddle or burst into flames.

_If I agree will you stop with the pictures so I can get on with work? M._

The reply came almost instantaneously.

_Am I distracting you Misaki? S._

He mourned the innocence of his showerhead for half a second before the image made him blank out. The dark haired boy was pointing the showerhead at himself and appeared to be bouncing on one of his many toys, which currently lived in the corner of Yata bedroom behind the full length mirror. 

_Oh fuck you and start calling estate agents. M._

_Yes your highness. S._

Yata got a lot of orders wrong that night, but he did manage to remember the olive oil and to bend Fushimi over the nearest solid surface, being the kitchen counter, when he got home.

~~~

Fushimi hated their estate agent, for one he dressed like he was from the 70's and he constantly flirted with Yata. The guy stared, a lot and it was creepy.

"You used to stare like that, you were really creepy Saru," Yata had said when Fushimi brought it up at dinner once. "You do remember how you used to stalk me, right?" He said plainly which really grated against Fushimi.

"So getting stalked is fine?" Fushimi was almost pissed off at the redhead's flippant nature. 

"It's not like I can't handle myself Saru," Yata sighed as he spooned the curry. "The guy's good at his job and we only have to suffer him for another week, chill out," he mumbled around his food. 

"I remember when it was you who used to follow me around," Fushimi sighed fondly, drowning in the nostalgia. "You practically stalked me back then and all the 'oh Saru you're so amazing, you're going to do gre-" a spoon full of curry hit him right between the eyes and slowly slid down his face. Across the table, Yata was stuttering with a glowing beetroot face. 

"You're such an asshole," Yata whined as Fushimi wiped his forehead. 

"Yeah, well this asshole is going to cut off that estate agent's hand if he fucking touches you," Fushimi stated and continued to eat his dinner, Yata stared at him in awe unable to do much else.


	11. Chapter 11

Fushimi had taken the estate agent aside and calmly told him what would happen to him if he so much as looked at Yata in a way that Fushimi didn't like. The man spent the next week addressing Fushimi alone.

~~~

A few members of sceptre 4 came to help with their move, much to Yata's surprise, and a handful of homra members. They were surprised by the amount of boxes that they'd accumulated, mostly Fushimi's somehow. The box with all of the dark haired boy's toys in had the courtesy to wait until everyone had left before it started vibrating, Yata flushed despite it though. 

"I thought you wanted to make a box fort?" Fushimi said between laughter. 

"Yeah I did, but your gross box of tools to embarrass me is making its way across the floor!" Yata flailed, face aflame. Fushimi strode toward the offending box, pulling out a knife to open it.

"You don't complain when they're inside you," He looked up wickedly, Yata screamed incredulously. "I seem to remember you begging me to leave them in," Fushimi drew the vibrator from the box and switched it off. Yata had grown to know that look, anticipate it sometimes, the look that Fushimi gave him as he stood vibrator in hand. "Funny how this is the first box we open, ne Misaki?" Fushimi titled his head as he approached the smaller.

"Saru," Yata whined, back up against a wall. Fushimi covered that mouth with his own, Yata tasted like desire and he wanted to drown in it. 

"Let's christen the apartment," He whispered over Yata's wet lips, the redhead whimpered in reply already half hard. Fushimi spun him around so he was facing the wall and promptly pulled his shorts down. Yata gasped, the stale air of the empty apartment touching him.

Fushimi knelt behind Yata, brought his mouth to the other's backside. Teeth sinking in enough for pleasure without pain, Yata pressed his forehead to the cold wall. Fushimi kissed, nipped and licked in turn until he could hear the soft panting of the boy above him. He then spread Yata's cheek with slender fingers, puffing air onto the sensitive flesh. Yata jolted, releasing a high pitched cry.

"S-saru, don't tease me," Yata whined in earnest, the needy sound of it made Fushimi's blood sing. 

He began to lap at the puckered hole, leaving as much saliva behind as possible. Yata pawed at the wall desperately, moaning through gritted teeth. It wasn't long before Fushimi's fingers joined his tongue, pressing the smaller flush against the wall. Yata's moan cracked through the air and bounced off the wall when he felt the vibrator pressed against him gently. The thrum of it focused all his senses to that one point of contact, Fushimi pushed it in slowly whilst it shook in his hand. Yata's cock was trapped between his body and the wall and it was beginning to hurt.

Fushimi turned him back around, the other's cock bouncing in front of his face. The sight above him was heavenly, red cheeks, wet open mouth, the whiney breaths. He opened his mouth wide, icy eyes caging fiery ones as he took in all of Yata. Fushimi unzipped his flies and began to touch himself as he sucked. Neither lasted much longer, Yata's knees gave out on him and Fushimi caught him.

"S-saru," Yata huffed as he pulled the vibrator from himself, sitting in Fushimi's lap.

"Let me guess, I'm the worst right?" He heaved into the other's shoulder.

"You're such a dumbass," Yata sighed. 

~~~

"What are you doing Saru!" Yata barked, hand covering his mouth in an effort to suppress the bubbling laughter. Fushimi had his hair tied up, was wearing a face mask, marigolds and an apron. 

"I am cleaning, what does it look like?" Fushimi pouted as he rose from floor. "You clean all the time and you're always cooking for me, I don't want to be some sort of freeloader," Yata could almost make out the faint glow of a blush upon Fushimi's cheeks. 

"Aww, my wife is so good to me," he jumped on Fushimi, wrapping his arms and legs around the other. "She brings in the big money, cleans and is completely wild in bed," Yata continued to laugh as he pulled the mask from Fushimi's face and began to plant kisses all over that pouting visage. 

"You're damned right," Fushimi giggled into the kisses. 

~~~

"Ah Misaki!" Fushimi squealed embarrassing Yata to no end. He continued to moan wantonly as he slid down upon the smaller, sound reverberating off the tiled walls of their bathroom. The water spilt over the edge of the tub as Fushimi rose and fell in Yata's lap, clinging desperately to the smaller. Yata grit his teeth, the sight before him was overwhelming. Fushimi wasn't wearing his glasses, without the barrier of glass Yata could see the sparkling pale hues and he sore they were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. He grasped the warm wet skin under his fingers, pulling it towards him in a chant of 'mine'. 

~~~

Yata was sitting on the balcony, watching as the snow begin to fall pretending that he wasn't crying. It had been a year, a whole year since his king had died. Almost year since Fushimi had come to him on his knees, begging forgiveness. 

"Why did you leave, Saru?" He said softly as he leaned against the other. Fushimi sighed, he knew he'd have to answer that question eventually, but he wasn't going to like it. 

"There's a lot of reasons," Fushimi ground out looking straight ahead at the hazy horizon. 

"I've got all the time in the world," Yata countered pressing his cheek into Fushimi's shoulder. The taller took a deep breath, it was now or never. 

"I just didn't belong there, they weren't the kind of people that I get along with, they're not my friends Misaki," Fushimi brought an arm around the smaller, pulling him closer. 

"You liked Totsuka," Yata stated, "don't you dare deny that," he turned his face to the other's daringly. 

"Okay," Fushimi conceded. "They're all too nice and not nice enough and I felt really destructive back then," he didn't dare look at Yata, memories of that alleyway came far too easily. "I wanted to burn the beautiful world you had because I knew I couldn't convince you to come with me, because I knew that you belonged there," he bit his lip. Yata leaned up, taking his glasses from his face and gently kissed his temple. 

"It's alright now Saru, I belong with you," Yata's shone earnestly at Fushimi as he stared at the other pensive. "I belong right here with you and you belong here with me," Yata wrapped his arms around Fushimi, staring deep into those pale eyes. He thought that maybe someday that blue would be his favourite colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T-t-ttthat's all folks, but don't worry I'll be back soon with much more for these two. See ya on the next one!!


End file.
